


stroke-on-tent

by jeeno2, JenfysNest



Series: Reylo Crack [7]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: (at least according to the British tabloids), Ben Solo's got a big dick y'all, Crack, Dressing Room Sex, F/M, Humor, Misunderstandings, Shoplifting, Sweatpants, it real big, this is based on a true story and no we aren't kidding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-10
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-11-28 17:02:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20969996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeeno2/pseuds/jeeno2, https://archiveofourown.org/users/JenfysNest/pseuds/JenfysNest
Summary: Poe points towards the back of the store. “Look at that guy,” he mutters. “The one in the grey sweatpants.”Rey follows the direction of his gaze, and gasps when she sees he’s pointing right at Ben.“What… what about him?” Rey asks, trying, and failing, to keep her voice even.“I think he’s shoplifting.”Rey’s eyes go wide. “Wait. What?”“Yeah,” Poe says, shaking his head. “That sleazy fuck. Just look at the front of his pants.”------------------------(In which Rey accuses a hot customer of shoplifting because of the giant bulge in his pants--and gets the surprise of her life)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [3todream3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/3todream3/gifts).
  * Translation into Русский available: [Из широких штанин](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24528949) by [alikssepia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alikssepia/pseuds/alikssepia)

> Based on [a shocking true story](https://metro.co.uk/2019/09/27/man-with-10-inch-penis-accused-of-shoplifting-because-of-suspicious-bulge-10820682/) that recently took place in Stoke-on-Trent in England. 
> 
> This is a gift for 3todream3, because she saw the prompt on twitter and tagged us right away ;) We hope you enjoy it!

Rey is used to dealing with all sorts of people in this job.

She’s helped women looking for something special for their honeymoons. She’s worked with nervous young teens, here with their moms to be fitted for their first bras. 

And she’s humored more frat boys—only here because of a dare—than she can count.

But in the six months Rey has worked at the mall she’s never had a customer like  _ this _ guy.

She’ll probably get in trouble if Poe catches her ogling a customer like this. But she can’t help it. This guy is… well. He’s something else. He’s absurdly tall, and built like a double-wide fridge. And although his dark grey hoodie was pulled up over his head when he walked in a few minutes ago, he just tugged the hood down and  _ god _ , the head of hair on this man is unreal. Every time he runs one of his giant hands through his long, tousled locks Rey can’t help but wonder if it’s as soft as it looks. 

Rey knows she’s supposed to keep an eye on the store. But it’s the middle of the afternoon on a Tuesday and they’re slow. She only hopes Poe doesn’t catch her right now because if he does, she’ll never hear the end of it.

* * *

“I have a question.”

Rey blinks up at sexy shopper guy, who just made his way to where she’s been semi-hiding from him behind the check-out counter. She hopes her reaction to the sound of his deep voice doesn’t show all over on her face.

“Oh,” she says. She fidgets with one of her earrings.  _ Calm down, Niima _ , she tells herself.  _ Do your fucking job _ . “Sure. How… how can I help you?”

“Perfume,” he says, very seriously. 

Rey waits for him to elaborate. When all he does is stand there, looking at her expectantly, she prompts, “What about perfume?”

“Oh.” He stares down at his shoes, at a loss for words. “Um. Well, I want to buy the best one you have. How can I tell which one is the best?” 

She grins at him, suddenly understanding. Because  _ confused man trying to pick out a gift for his significant other _ is definitely something she’s seen before.

“I don’t think you can really call any perfume ‘the best,’” she says, politely. “Everyone is going to have their own favorite.”

He blinks. “Oh,” he says. Like this explanation had never occurred to him.

“Yeah.” Her smile grows. “If you follow me I can show you which perfumes are our most popular. Would that help?”

He smiles back at her in obvious relief, showing off a pair of dimples that take Rey’s breath away. It occurs to her, suddenly, that this is a man who should smile more often. All the time, if possible. Whoever’s dating him might be the luckiest person alive.

“That would be great,” he says. “Thank you.”

Rey walks him in the direction of the brightly backlit wall of perfumes, all the while stealing glances in his direction. She doesn’t think she’s ever seen such full lips on a man. It’s unfair. It’s obscene really.

When they make it to the wall, a single look at his face lets Rey know he’s utterly at a loss. He worries the inside of his mouth while quickly scanning the shelves.

“I know it looks like a lot,” she says. 

“Yeah. There are a million options and I’ve got no idea what I’m looking for.” Just then, he raises a life-alteringly giant hand and plucks a bottle off the shelf. He takes a moment to study it—while Rey studies him. He sighs before he sets the bottle back down a little too roughly. The clack of glass on glass makes him wince.

“Sorry.”

“No, it’s okay. I’ve got you,” she says without thinking, and immediately flushes at how the words sound.

He quickly lifts his eyes to hers at her words, and that perfect, dimpled smile spreads back across his face. “Okay,” he says while his eyes move down her body and to her chest. Her breathing stops.  _ Is he checking me out? _ “So Rey,” he says when his eyes finally settle on her nametag, “please save me.” 

_ Of course _ — _ fucking nametag. _

“Okay, uh…” Rey starts, hoping to get his name.

“Ben,” he says while extending that huge hand out for a handshake.

His grip is firm and soft and Rey takes just an extra second to relish it.

“So, Ben, the perfumes on this shelf are our best sellers. The best thing about these options is there are quite a variety of fragrance notes, so I think you can easily find one that suits the recipient’s taste.”

“Excellent. I only understood half of what you just said, but I feel like I’m in competent professional hands with you,” he says with a grin.

“Well, first, we’ll figure out what kind of perfume they normally wear,” Rey says while spritzing the tester strips. “I find most people have a preference for  _ either _ floral or woody. Smell these two and tell me which is more like something they would wear.”

She hands him both strips and he brings them up, one at a time, to his aquiline nose. Rey tries not to think about the things that nose would brush against if his face was down between her--

“Woody,” he says suddenly, pulling her out of her perverted reverie. “She wears woody.”

Rey shakes her head to clear her mind while simultaneously clearing her throat. “Perfect. If she likes woody fragrances then these three are your best options,” Rey says in her best professional cadence. “I’ll leave you to it then.”

“Wait,” he says reaching his arm out to grab her wrist, but quickly pulling it back, seemingly thinking better of it. “I thought maybe you could help me some more. I’m really not the best at this. Maybe you could pick one for me.”

It wasn’t an unusual request. Rey has gotten it plenty of times. Some men are concerned about disappointing their girlfriends or wives and just want a woman to make the choice for them. She tells herself that her next question is about choosing the right perfume and absolutely nothing else. She takes another look at his ringless left hand and asks, “What kind of personality does your girlfriend have?”

“Girlfriend? Oh. No--” It might be her imagination, but it seems he leans into her a bit. “It’s not for my girlfriend. I don’t have a girlfriend, Rey. It’s for my mother.”

At that admission Rey’s heart rate starts speeding up. 

_ Jesus fuck, Niima _ , she yells at herself.  _ Just because he doesn’t have a girlfriend doesn’t mean… anything at all, really.  _

“Oh,” she says mildly, hoping her face doesn’t betray her thoughts. She clears her throat, and tries to find the last woody fragrance she remembers selling to an older customer. “ _ Eau du Challenge _ ,” she says, plucking a small purple bottle off the shelf. She turns and hands it to Ben, who reaches for it with a grateful expression. Their hands touch for just the briefest of seconds and Rey wonders if it’s possible for a person to spontaneously combust, just from this. 

“ _ Eau du Challenge?” _ he asks, studying the bottle. It’s a respectable size, as far as purple bottles of perfume go. But it looks positively tiny in his catchers’ mitt hands.

“Yeah,” Rey says, watching with fascination as he handles the thing. “This one is… um. Popular. Among some of our older customers.”

“I see.” He looks up at her and grins again. “You’ve saved my life, Rey.”

He’s still looking at her a moment later. Still smiling. It takes all her determination to look away and wave her hand dismissively. “It’s my job,” she says.

“Well, you’ve helped me more than you know.” He pauses. “I’m going to look around a little more for some other stuff, if that’s okay.”

“Oh.” Rey nods. “Sure. I’ll just be… back at the register, if you need anything else.”

His smile grows. “I’ll know where to find you.”

* * *

“I’m not happy.”

Rey looks up from organizing the 32-34DD bra display at the sound of Poe’s voice. He’s frowning, which is never a good sign.

“What’s wrong?” 

He’s pointing towards the back of the store. “Look at that guy,” he mutters. “The one in the grey sweatpants.”

Rey follows the direction of his gaze and gasps when she sees he’s pointing right at Ben, who’s looking just as lost right now in  _ bathrobes _ as he did a half an hour ago in  _ perfumes. _

She starts to panic. Did Poe see her ogling him earlier? Is she about to get fired?

“What… what about him?” Rey asks, trying--and mostly failing--to keep her voice even.

“I think he’s shoplifting,” Poe says. 

Rey’s eyes go wide. “Wait. What?”

“Yeah,” Poe says, shaking his head. “That sleazy fuck.”

It’s true that they get more than their fair share of shoplifters here. Typically, it’s the young girls and older male customers who they catch doing it. Probably because they’re more afraid of having to admit to a salesperson that they want to make a purchase here than the average shopper.

Rey finds it hard to believe Ben would steal from them though. Especially after spending so much time with her picking something out for his mother.

“Why do you think he’s stealing?” Rey asks. Is she really that bad a judge of character that she’d ignore a possible shoplifter for a pair of pretty eyes?

“Look at the front of his sweatpants,” Poe says cryptically.

“What?” Rey asks with narrowed eyes. “His pants?” Rey can’t see them where he’s standing behind the rack of bathrobes, but even without seeing the front of his pants she knows you can’t sneak much into the average pair of sweatpants. 

“Come on, Poe. You’re probably imagining it. The guy just spent a bunch of time with me in the perfume section asking for help. He picked out a $60 bottle of perfume. I doubt he’s trying to steal.”

“Rey,” Poe says, impatiently. “I am  _ not _ imagining the ridiculous bulge I saw. I’m telling you—he’s stuffed something in there.”

Rey thinks back on their earlier interaction. Was all the chatting-- _ the flirting _ \--a ruse? Was Ben buttering her up so she’d be less vigilant? No. She can’t believe he would make up a story about his mother and then turn around and steal. He seemed  _ sweet _ . Poe has to be mistaken.

“See!” Poe says suddenly, nudging her so hard with his elbow that he practically knocks her into the bra display.

Ben has come out from behind the rack of bathrobes and-- _ fuck _ \--the disappointment is instant and palpable. Poe is totally right. There is no question he’s hiding something in those pants. 

The grey sweats were not a very practical choice for shoplifting. There isn’t much at all left to the imagination. With every step he takes, she can see the outline of his perfectly muscular thighs. It makes her throat dry. But, all that wanton lust disappears as soon as she sees that bulge. It’s huge. He isn’t even trying to hide it. This guy has to have the biggest set of balls to be so cavalier about something as serious as stealing.

“How many pairs do you think are wadded up in there? A dozen, maybe?” Poe asks without even sparing a glance in her direction.

Rey doesn’t even attempt to answer. She’s too busy swimming in the stew of horny rage Ben has cooked up in her brain.  _ What an asshole. _ All the smiles and the damn dimples and for what? So he could steal a bunch of ladies’ underwear--probably for the girlfriend that he definitely  _ must  _ have. 

“You have to get him to give them up.”

“What? No! Poe, you’re the shift lead. Why am I always stuck dealing with the shoplifters?”

“Come on, Rey. You know they’re always more apt to cooperate and hand the merch over if you approach them. You’re less threatening.” He winks at her. “Also, it’s time for my lunch. I’m trying this thing where I fast in the morning, have a huge lunch and then fast again for dinner--one meal a day. Evidently the Rock does it.”

Rey rolls her eyes. “I couldn’t care less what the Rock does. I don’t want to deal with this guy.”

“Does this have anything to do with the heart-eyes I saw you two making at each other earlier?” he asks with a raised eyebrow.

“What? I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was just helping him pick out perfume for his mom. Or at least I thought I was. Looks like that was probably a lie.” The words are just out of her mouth when the stew of horny rage morphs into just plain rage. “You know what? Go eat lunch. I’ve got this.”

“Good,” Poe says. “I’ll be back in an hour.”

* * *

It takes Rey a few minutes to work up the nerve to approach Ben. Partially because she’s still so pissed with him for playing her like a fiddle, but mostly because of the store’s policy for dealing with shoplifters. And what it requires her to do.

Because it’s one thing to confront a nervous teenager and ask her to empty her purse in the back for inspection. It’s hard, it’s unpleasant, and Rey hates it--but she can do it. But it’s an entirely different matter to go up to a hot guy and ask him to drop his pants in the back so Rey can search him for stolen merchandise. 

Her face is on fire just thinking about it. She doesn’t think she’s ever hated Poe more than she does right now. 

“Excuse me,” she says, in as steady a voice as she can muster. 

Ben looks up from the white lacy bathrobe he’d been studying ( _ is he thinking about stealing that too? _ Rey wonders, anger mounting again) and smiles at her. She looks down at the front of his pants again--just for further visual confirmation of their suspicions, of course--and her stomach sinks. Seeing that massive bulge up close removes any lingering doubt she might have had that he’s stuffed half the fucking store down there. 

“Oh,” he says, too casually. She hears him swallow. “Hi.”

“Yeah.” Rey folds her arms tightly in front of her chest. She glances down at his bulge again--just to be really,  _ really _ sure before she tells him what she needs to tell him--and nods. She adopts her sternest,  _ I work in retail so don’t fuck with me _ stance and says, “I’m going to need you to come into one of the dressing rooms with me. Right now.”

At that, Ben’s eyes go very wide. He looks terrified. Like he knows he’s been caught.

_ This motherfucker _ , Rey fumes. 

“What?” he squeaks. He cringes, and clears his throat. “Um. Why do I need to go into a dressing room with you?”

So he’s going to be coy about this. Great. Just her fucking luck. ”I think you know.”

He shakes his head vigorously. “No. I really don’t.”

Rey closes her eyes and pinches the bridge of her nose. She’s going to ask Poe for a raise the second he comes back.

“I can  _ see _ that bulge in your pants,” she says, looking down at her shoes. She can’t believe this is her life. “I wasn’t born yesterday, you know. I know what’s down there.”

Ben doesn’t say anything for what feels like hours. There are other people in the store, talking to one another and laughing, but Rey pays them no mind.

Finally, he says, “You… want me to go into a dressing room with you?” His voice sounds husky, deeper, and… strange, somehow. Not scared anymore. Almost… awestruck. What the fuck is up with this guy?

“Yes,” she says. She grabs his wrist, and hears his sharp intake of breath. His cheeks are flushed now and she knows she shouldn’t still find this creep attractive but god, she really,  _ really does.  _

He nods. “Okay,” he murmurs, so quietly Rey almost can’t hear it. “I’ll do whatever you say.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we have the gripping conclusion to this incredibly serious story.

<strike></strike>

Rey drags Ben toward the dressing room in the back of the store that they use for confronting shoplifters. Poe insists the histrionics of the offending garment thieves scare off other customers, so discretion is the name of the game.

As they walk, she can feel the rapid beat of his pulse against her fingertips. Good. He’s nervous. She can totally be intimidating. Sort of. Well, just last week she made that weird, octogenarian panty-sniffer cry. That’s got to count for something. 

“Don’t move,” Rey says as she lets go of his wrist to swing open the dressing room door. She motions for him to walk inside. “Get in there. Now.”

When he spends a second too long studying her face instead of getting a move on, she adds, in her best  _ I’m not fucking around _ tone, “I said get inside. I don’t want to make this …  _ situation _ —” she motions to the giant pilfered bulge in his pants—“harder than it already is.”

At her words, he blushes. Rey can even see it in those adorable too-large ears of his. His Adam’s apple bobs as he takes a thick swallow. 

“Okay, I’m sorry, I’m just… kind of surprised. I really didn’t expect this,” he says as he makes his way into the dressing room.

It isn’t until she closes the door and they’re both occupying the same tight space that Rey really absorbs just how massive Ben is. It makes her nerves rattle. It makes her thighs clench. 

_ Fuck _ .

When Rey speaks again her voice has lost all of its bluster from a moment ago. “If you give me what I want— _ quietly _ —this will go a lot easier.”

He licks his lips and runs his giant fucking fingers through his hair. “What exactly do you want, Rey? I need to hear you say it.”

_ This son of a bitch _ .

“You know what I want, Ben.” She enunciates every single syllable of her next sentence for emphasis. “I—want—what’s—in—those—damn—pants.”

“ _ Fuck _ ,  _ Rey _ . I’m… I’m sorry. I just… I don’t usually do this kind of thing. Like ever.”

She really wishes he wasn’t so damn attractive. It’s making it hard to focus on reading him the riot act when all she really wants to do is brush her fingers through his hair. It just looks so fucking  _ soft _ . 

When her mind starts to catalog every lickable mole, she drags her brain back to the task at hand. She’s being ridiculous. He is a thief. A thief who flirted with her to get her to drop her guard.

She clears her throat. “How we approach this is:  _ you _ give me the things you stole and  _ I _ don’t call the police.”

Ben’s eyes go so wide they look about two seconds from falling out of his head. “I’m sorry.  _ What _ ?”

“You heard me.” She points an accusatory finger at his bulge. And… wait a minute. Is it her imagination, or has it gotten even  _ bigger _ than it was before she dragged him back here? She was distracted when she frog-marched him back here. He must have taken advantage of that and stolen more stuff.  _ Asshole.  _ “Take it out, now. All of it.”

Ben stares at her like she’s just sprouted an extra head. 

“Seriously?” he asks in a low voice after what feels like a very long time. “Is this really happening to me again?”

So he’s a serial shoplifter, then. 

Fucking fantastic. 

“Look, pal,” she says impatiently. “Most of my pay is commissions. The longer this takes, the smaller my paycheck will be.”

Ben closes his eyes and sighs, shaking his head.

“What would you say if I told you I just have a really big penis?” 

Rey snorts. “No one’s dick is that big, Ben.”

“You’re wrong.”

“No. I’m not.” She gestures expansively at his crotch. “There is literally no way that all of  _ that  _ can be one man’s dick.”

“Well, technically, I guess some of it’s my balls.” He steps closer to her, and looks in her eyes. “But Rey, I swear—I’ve never shoplifted in my life.”

He looks so earnest. Then he bites his plump, luscious lower lip in a way that makes Rey want to sink her teeth into it too. She wonders, fleetingly, if he ever goes down on the woman he’s stealing all this stuff for with that sinful mouth. If it were up to Rey, and the situation wasn’t what it currently is, she’d make Ben eat her out every day before breakfast and twice on Sunday. 

When she speaks again, her voice is shaking. So is the rest of. 

“ _ Drop _ .  _ Your _ .  _ Pants _ .”

Ben sighs, mutters something under his breath, and does as she asks.

When Rey sees it, her vision nearly whites out. She stumbles backwards until the backs of her legs bump up against the dressing room’s built-in wooden seat. She collapses onto it, all the breath in her body leaving her in a rush.

“Oh… my god,” she breathes, stunned. Rey’s seen a few cocks in her lifetime—but never has she seen one quite like Ben’s. “You were telling the truth.”

Rey can’t look Ben in the eyes. Not because she’s ashamed that she falsely accused him of stealing a metric fuckton of ladies underwear, even though she knows she should be ashamed. No—Rey can’t look Ben in the eyes because she can’t peel hers away from the absolutely  _ enormous _ penis currently straining valiantly against the seams of his boxer-briefs. 

From where she’s seated, she can make out every curve and ridge of a dick that would make a Clydesdale do a double-take. There are no pilfered panties in there. Only lots and lots of cock. 

She clasps her hands together when the sudden urge to trace each ridge with her fingertips hits her. 

“It’s so big,” Rey says, a breathy tone of wonder coloring her words. As if in response, his cock twitches. “Oh, my  _ god _ , Ben.” 

What was mostly-erect a few seconds ago is heading head first into fully erect. And it is a sight to behold. Fuck her fingertips, she wants to trace those ridges with her tongue. And wonders how the stretch of something that big would feel inside her. 

“God, I’m really, really sorry,” he says. “It’s just… the way you’re  _ staring _ at it. I can’t help it, Rey.”

Her name from his lips snaps her out of her dick-induced fugue state. Her eyes finally make their way from his cock to his face, and suddenly the seriousness of the situation she’s in comes at her full force. Horniness is replaced by concern. 

Oh, no. He wasn’t stealing. Could she be fired? Could he call the cops on  _ her _ ? Could she be arrested for assault by forcing a big-dicked man into a dressing room under the pretense of a shoplifting concern?

“Oh my god. Why are you apologizing?  _ I’m _ the one who’s sorry. I didn’t mean... I thought you were  _ stealing _ ,” she whines. She stands up quickly and Ben leans back to give her space, his grey sweatpants still pooled around his ankles. 

“It’s okay, Rey. Really.” He holds up his palms in what Rey registers, dimly, is supposed to be a placating gesture. “This isn’t the first time something like this has happened. I’ve been accused before. I just thought … I mean, I thought you were flirting with me earlier. Then you dragged me back here.” He swallows, looking embarrassed. “I just misread the situation.”

He bends over to pull up his pants and a dawning realization comes over Rey. Her anxiety is all but gone, something like excitement quickly taking its place. 

“Wait. Why  _ did _ you think I was bringing you into the dressing room?”

Ben freezes with his pants halfway up his legs. He looks at her, that deer-in-the-headlights expression from earlier back in his eyes.

He slowly pulls his pants up the rest of the way and tucks himself back inside them. “That’s… that’s not important.”

He clears his throat, then turns to walk out of the dressing room.

She grabs his arm to stop him.

“Seriously, Ben. What is it?” But with the way he’s looking at her right now she’s thinks she already knows. Her eyes go to his full, perfect lips. He wets them with the tip of his tongue, and it’s almost certainly just a nervous tic—but her body doesn’t care. She  _ reacts _ to the way his tongue traces that plump lower lip, and she starts rubbing her thighs together before she even realizes she’s doing it. 

His eyes fall to _her_ mouth—and suddenly, she knows with certainty what he’d been thinking when she brought him here. And she knows exactly what she’s going to do about it.

“Rey,” he says. “I don’t want to get you in trouble. Or force myself on you, if this isn’t what you—“

But Rey’s heard enough. 

“ _ Shhh _ ,” she says, before closing the distance between them and pressing her lips to his. If she’d thought they looked soft before that was nothing compared to the reality. She could drown in this. In kissing Ben. 

She decides she wants to try.

He stumbles back a little, clearly not expecting this. But he recovers quickly, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her so close he nearly lifts her off her feet.

“Is this what you thought was going to happen when I brought you back here?” she mumbles against his lips. 

His answer is immediate. “Yes.” 

Rey’s heard stories about people getting it on in department store dressing rooms. She suspects Poe makes up most of them just to freak her out, but she and Ben can’t possibly be the first people to do this here. She’s still on the clock, though, and while the store is slower than normal there are still a few customers out there. So when Rey tugs Ben’s sweatpants back down his legs, pulling his underwear down with them, she puts a finger to his lips.

“I want this,” Rey whispers. “But we have to be quiet.”

He nods enthusiastically. “I can be quiet.” He lifts her up and she instinctively wraps her legs around his waist. It’s like wrapping herself around a giant tree trunk. Rey cannot believe this is happening. 

And then Ben kisses her, and kisses her, and kisses her, as he backs her up against the door of the dressing room.

“Rey—“ he begins, his breathing already starting to come hard and fast. But they’ve talked enough for now. Rey pulls his face down to hers and swallows up the rest of what he’d been about to say. Rey wants to commit each slide of his lips’ velvet smoothness to memory but they don’t have time. The feel of his cock against her belly—unbearably hard and so, so thick—is enough to temper her excitement for just a second. 

She needs this cock inside her five bloody minutes ago, but the horniness raging inside her has not dulled her critical thinking skills enough to think this will be easy.

No man she’s been with has come close to preparing her to take Ben in all his glorious … bigness. But Rey is no quitter. She’s worked with Poe fucking Dameron for six months and is still standing. 

“Ben.” He chases her lips eagerly while she tries to talk. “Ben, put me down.”

He pulls back and sets her down gingerly on her unsteady legs.

“Did you change your mind?” he whispers, still being mindful of her instructions to keep it down.  _ What a good boy. _

“ _ Fuck, no! _ ” Rey says a little too loudly. She cringes at her obvious exuberance, then lowers her voice. “I definitely want to. It’s just … I want to make sure I’m... ready. For this,” she says as she attempts to wrap her hand around the girth of him—and fails. 

Ben hisses at the contact, and Rey whimpers, the tactile evidence of his tremendous size making her cunt practically convulse with need.

“That feels so good.” He tilts his head back, lost to her for a moment. She hears the soft thud when it makes contact with the dressing room wall. Her hand makes a languid stroke along the length of his cock and when he lifts his head, he looks her square in the eyes with a look of sheer determination. 

“I can—“ He chokes on his next words when she brings her other hand up and gracelessly shoves it into her panties. “Fuck. God, I can make you ready.”

“Yeah?” Rey asks, stroking him again. There is zero question that Rey is the wettest she’s ever been, but she doesn’t know what Ben considers prep for taking what’s between his legs. 

His hand grabs her wrist, halting the progress of her next stroke on his cock. 

“Yes,” he says. He pulls her hand out of her panties and spins her to face the dressing room mirror. She already looks fucked—her hair mussed, her lips swollen, her pebbled nipples easily visible through the thin fabric of her dress. 

“Look how beautiful you are Rey,” he says while wrapping an arm around her waist and pressing her firmly against his chest. He moves his hand up to squeeze her breast, and Rey bites her lip to stifle her moan. She couldn’t be more grateful that his arm has her pinned to him because her legs tremble and remaining upright is suddenly a chore.

When he releases her breast, Rey wants to protest until he slides his hand up her inner thigh and fists the bottom of her dress. 

He has her exposed, the white lace of her panties popping against her tan freckled skin in the reflection. Her stomach rises with every pant. He cups his enormous hand over her mound and Rey thinks she’s could come just from the visual of it. She feels delicate and she’s overcome with the urge for him to  _ break _ her. 

“Ben, please,” she cries, her body vibrating with need.

“Shhh. I’ve got you.” He moves his hand and slips his fingers inside her sodden panties before yanking them down. He groans softly as he watches their reflection in the mirror. 

When his fingers slip between her folds and part her, he gasps. “You are so fucking wet, Rey.” She  _ knows _ . The apex of her thighs are damp with it. She can see it in her reflection. She can even  _ hear _ it when he slides his fingers over her swollen clit, making her whole body shiver, before slipping down to easily push two of his thick fingers inside her.

“You see how well you take me, Rey? You’re  _ already _ ready for so much more.” He slips in a third finger and begins to slowly work them in and out of her—his thumb moving in circles around her eager clit—teasing. 

She watches in the mirror as he works her, slack-jawed and dazed, his large hands holding her body with so much intimate familiarity it’s like he was born knowing exactly how to touch her. But it isn’t long before her eyes flutter closed of their own volition, the sensations flooding her too powerful for her to do anything but surrender to them. 

And then, without warning, he lets her go. Her entire body protests,  _ screams _ , demanding more. 

“Ben,” she says, confused. Her chest is heaving, her eyes watering with need. “What—”

He picks her up and carries her to the wooden bench, settling her on his lap without another word.

“I’ve got you,” he says again, low and urgent, pressing a line of wet, open-mouthed kisses along her jaw. The scrape of stubble from his beard is a rough, delicious rasp on her cheek as he kisses her. She digs her fingernails into his back. If earlier she’d wanted to drown in wanting Ben, now she knows what that feels like. “I want to feel that sweet little cunt of yours with more than just my fingers.” 

He reaches into the pocket of his hoodie and pulls out his wallet. It takes longer than it should for him to roll on the condom with the way his hands shake a little. Rey isn’t sure if it’s due to nervousness or excitement, but either way it only makes him even more endearing.

He positions her on his lap  _ just so _ , and then he’s pressing into her, mouth tight with concentration. Rey has a moment of panic where she worries that she’s not going to be able to take him after all. 

But then, with only a minimum of discomfort… she does.

“Do you have any idea how gorgeous you are?” he asks, reverently, when he comes to a full seat inside her. He pauses for a moment, and gives her a small smile that melts her heart.

And then, he starts fucking up into her with slow and purposeful strokes, bouncing her on his cock like she weighs nothing at all. His eyes are glazed, his cheeks are flushed, and Rey doesn’t think she’s ever seen anything more beautiful in her life. She leans forward, resting her forehead against his, as he thrusts up into her again, and again, and again. She’s never felt so stretched. So full. His cock, and its inexorable slide in and out of her, is the only thing tethering her to this earth. She looks into his eyes, sees the look of worship and adoration in them—and feels powerful. 

_ Magnificent.  _

“I started getting hard the minute you started talking to me,” Ben continues. His thrusts are already starting to speed up. Rey throws her arms around his neck for leverage. She tries to match his pace, but the coil of pleasure at the base of her spine is already starting to wind tighter and she knows this won’t last much longer. 

He slides his hand down so he can thumb at her clit again. She cries out, and falls forward against his chest, the only thing in the world the feeling of his hand at her clit and his cock in her cunt.

“I had to stand behind the bathrobes to hide how hard I was for you.”

Rey is senseless, knows she’s quickly unraveling. On the cusp of flying apart at the seams.

Her breath shudders and she wants him to fall apart with her. She  _ needs _ it. She presses her knees to the bench on either side of him, taking control. 

“Ben, come for me,” she whispers into his ear. The slow, delicious slide of every ridge of him inside her has him gasping.

When he starts to tremble beneath her, Rey rests her forehead against his and says, “Let go.” 

The thumb he has pressed against her moves more quickly now. When she next closes the space between them, sliding him even further inside her, the stretch inside marries with the sharp and blinding pleasure of his thumb playing her perfectly. Her eyes snap open and the  _ look _ he gives her tips her over the edge. Rey captures his mouth in a kiss to keep from crying out with the enormity of it all.

Her body is boneless, but her cunt is still clenching when she feels him come apart inside her a moment later on a hoarse whisper of her name.

* * *

“Hey,” Ben murmurs quietly against her temple a moment later, once they’ve come down from their breathless highs. Rey sighs, and melts against him, pulling him closer. “That was…”

Rey nods. “Yeah,” she agrees . “It was.”

“I don’t…” He pauses, and trails off again. Rey pulls back a little to look at him, but his eyes are downcast. He looks embarrassed. Why is he embarrassed? “I meant what I said earlier, Rey. About how this isn’t something I normally do.”

“Me either,” she says quickly, trying to reassure him. She looks around at the pink and white walls of their dressing room. Thank god this one isn’t equipped with a camera. Poe would never let her hear the end of it if he saw  _ this.  _ “I’ve never done this before. Ever.”

She stands up, and smooths down her clothes so she can look presentable for the rest of her shift. She’s lost track of time—she supposes good dick will do that sometimes—but she’s pretty sure Poe will be back from lunch any minute.

“Can I take you out sometime?” Ben’s eyes are wide and earnest. He does something with the condom, making it disappear, before standing up and pulling up his sweatpants. “I’d been trying to work up the nerve to ask for your phone number before you dragged me back here.”

Rey smiles at him. “I’d like that.” And it’s true. Rey’s  _ never _ gone out with someone she met as a customer before, but any guy with the self-possession to walk into a Victoria’s Secret by himself to pick out perfume for his mother is a guy worth getting to know better. Especially when he comes equipped with a dick like his.

He beams at her. “Great.”

“Oh,” she says, a thought occurring to her. She eyes his crotch again, smirking when she sees that even immediately after sex the general shape and size of his cock are still more or less apparent through these truly ridiculous sweatpants he’s wearing.

She reaches forward and cups Ben meaningfully in both hands. His breath hitches. His eyes widen.

“On our date,” Rey says, grinning at him, “which I hope happens sooner rather than later, by the way—you should definitely wear these sweatpants again.”

Ben swallows and—fuck, he’s already getting hard again.

“If you want me to,” he says, smiling shyly back at her. “I’ll do whatever you say.”

**Author's Note:**

> Come find us twitter at [jeenonamit](https://twitter.com/jeenonamit/)!  
and [jenfysnest](https://twitter.com/ancientcityjenn/)!  



End file.
